


Engineering Loyalties

by d00biusc0nsent



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Plug, Blood and Injury, Brief Alcohol Use, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Naked Male Clothed Female, Overstimulation, Submissive Kylo Ren, brief knife play, domme reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d00biusc0nsent/pseuds/d00biusc0nsent
Summary: You're the best engineer the First Order has, and you're out to prove it, though someone is in your way. The Supreme Leader demands far too much patience, and you demand that he makes it up to you with that subservient body of his.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

“That motherfucker,” you spit, ripping a compromised thermal distributor from your prototype TIE after its ill-fated first flight, popping and spurting sparks. You aim to crush the part in question, holding back tears, before hurling it across the docking bay. It’s what should have given you your edge, but it has been used to topple you over it instead.

Several troopers avoid it, picking up the pace. Despite your jet black piloting gear, they recognize you as an officer; an officer not to be trifled with.

Your boots bash the durasteel as you storm across the hangar, helmet on hip, stirring up as much panic in the ranks as the person you aim to see: Supreme Leader Ren. Guards make no attempt to stop you as you enter the holo chamber, and you refuse to balk at his room encompassing illusion. You approach your betrayer. He’s already kneeling, absorbing the praise for winning the title of Chief Engineer.

“I believe only the winner of that demonstration was to join me for discussion here.” Ren leans forward, elbows on knees, looking down upon you with a shadow for a face.

You straighten your back and crane your neck to look up into that void. “Supreme Leader, pardon my intrusion, but that demonstration was rigged. By this fool,” you address with brittle constraint, pointing with your glossy helmet to the cretin on the ground. Your eyes well again, already thinking that of the two of you, the larger fool is you. For trusting him. Not just as a coworker, but as a lover. Admitting that you had been used was a blow to your pride. It doesn’t feel real.

“(Y/N), do you have a way to support your claims in the here and now? Or perhaps you simply can’t stand the idea of being second best. Well, third best. I expected more dignity from you than this. Begone,” he dismisses, waving you away like an insect.

His words are salt in your wound, but you swallow the bitter lump in your throat, wishing you had kept your helmet on.

“You lost, dearest. Everyone is prone to a careless mistake here and there, even you,” the winner condescends, refusing to even look your way. “When I retire, no doubt you’ll be first in line for the position.”

It was too much. You go to reach for the bastard, to drag him up to your gaze, to make him say this shit straight to you.

“Enough,” Ren booms, interrupting you before you can move. He felt your intent. “In three days' time, I will be holding a modest celebration in honor of our winner. Can I expect you to hold your tongue?”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” you answer through gritted teeth.

“Go, then. I have plans that will include you in my quarters in an hour’s time, but until then…” He leans back, signifying that in no uncertain terms, your attention has been spent.

You linger a moment, staring through the blue static. Turning on your heel, you slip the helmet over your head to shield yourself from the gawking. You can feel the red on every corner of your face, feel the control melting under the heat of your anger.

Of course, you’ll be there in an hour. The invitation is unnecessary. You won’t miss the opportunity to correct his behavior. 

~*~*~*~

All of Ren’s doors unlock for you and you stomp in, breathing in steam from a recently running shower. You haven’t bothered to change out of your gear, mostly because he deserves you at your least presentable. There he is, toweling off his hair before draping it around his neck.

“You know damn well that I’d never make such a stupid mistake. How dare you belittle me while we’re both in uniform! I’ll not be treated like others beneath you!”

“Stop,” he suggests gently, hands raised. The towel around his waist slips down to his hip bones, clinging on only just.

“Don’t try and tempt me,” you tell him, shaking your head, “I’m leaving.”

He relieves you of your helmet, setting it down on the sink to collect condensation like every other surface in the room. The little act infuriates you further, and doubly so when you discover the door is locked.

“Stay.”

You watch his parted lips, pondering a past memory of them sliding across your vulva, nerves sparking at the ghostly sensation. Those lips smirk, revealing a jagged tooth that always charms you. “Stay with me, (Y/N).” He keeps his voice deep and breathy, stepping closer until he eclipses you against the wall, barring you on each side with his arms.

“That’s enough,” you begin, turning your face away from those promises he’s making as he draws his tongue to the corner of his mouth. “I have every right to be pissed off at you, Kylo, and-”

“Pissed off?” he questions, putting literal pressure on you, halting his advance into your space. “You don’t trust me?”

You turn to look straight at him, resisting his half-assed attempt at flattening you. “Don’t trust you? Fuck you! You’re the one who-” The simmering anger on his face is enough to stop you from going further. He’s allowed you more leniency with your dictation than most would ever dare test.

“Finish your sentence,” he demands.

“I’m the one who should feel betrayed, Kylo. You told me that the test was a formality. Why change your mind with no evidence? You can read his mind, why not take a second and see the lie for yourself?”

“You think I haven’t?”

“He didn’t feel it?”

“His skull is thick, therefore a thin defense against me. No.”

“Then why make me look like a fool in your little competition if you knew already?”

“It was a demonstration for your eyes since, without my interference, you seem to be blind,” Ren accuses, looking down on you with a face you want to spit in.

His eyes smile wickedly at you, but you brush his distraction away. “I see,” you reply. “You’re jealous.”

The glow of his superiority dims. “I think not.”

“You are!” you declare, taking on the glow for yourself. “Why else would you be so dead set on humiliating him in a rematch you know he’ll lose? In front of me?”

“Because-” His face softens, though you can see his temper simmering behind his eyes as he lowers himself to his knees before you, tracing fingertips down your thighs. “-you deserve to watch him suffer with me, after how he’s mistreated you. Don’t you agree? Wouldn’t you seize and gift a revenge as sweet to me?” His knees spread across the slick floor, pulling apart the towel like a curtain to expose his heavy cock, twitching against the air.

He tears his eyes away from yours, looking instead straight ahead at the shimmering fabric between your legs, reaching out to the wet spot with his mouth, tongue extended. The air of his breath is blazing hot, already panting for a taste. He stops short, moaning as your nails sink into his scalp and hold him fast by the roots.

“I want you,” he whines, resisting your strength and forcing you to yank. Another moan. Another wave of humid bliss rolls over your lips. “Admit you’re mine,” he begs with full confidence.

“Am I?” you flirt, sinking your nails deeper and watching his eyes roll towards the ceiling.

“Yes!” His voice trembles as you give him the tiniest bit of slack, groaning when it’s still not enough.

You snap him back to look at you, leaning down to him to stroke the edge of his jaw with your free hand. His mouth opens to greet yours, but you plant a slap on its side instead. “You expect a lot of trust from me, Supreme Leader, for someone who’s just admitted to writing off someone loyal to you.”

“I do, but you have mine, however little it may be. All of it. I’ll not have someone interfering with your genius. It’s taken restraint not to kill him already,” he confesses.

“Why haven’t you?” you question, careful not to snag his scar as your hand descends his torso. His little gasps are delightful as you graze his shaft, giving him the lightest of tugs before squeezing at the glans. His hips buck, and you allow him to grind into your glove a moment, soaking his pearl of cum into the fabric over your thumb.

“I want you to do it,” Ren whispers into your hair, erupting your side in goose flesh. “Please?”

He presses forward to get closer, even if it means struggling against your grip. You reward him with the stroke of your thumb over his lips. He doesn’t dare move anything but his tongue, closing his eyes to savor the sensation of your glove and its freeing scent of fuel, and to taste himself on you, licking the remnants from his mouth in a lewd display.

“I’ll do as you ask,” you say, presenting an extended middle finger, splaying the rest, “on one condition.” He’s too drunk off of your presence to mind, taking the tip of your glove between his teeth and pulling, repeating with the others until it slips off with ease. The yearning in his expression mirrors your own, hidden impatience. You slide two fingers into his mouth and watch him suck on them at his own accord, rolling his tongue between them.

“Anything,” he replies, barely able to form the word around your ever sinking fingers, accepting them gladly.

“I get to fly the Silencer once it’s done. Now, unlock this damn door.”

The smile he gives is a true one, a ‘yes’, framed around your digits as you hold them there, disappearing only when you withdraw. He gags and salivates on the floor, his face a sloppy mess. The door unlocks. You leave him on his knees without another word, silently indulging in the same ache you’ve given him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for a friend once upon a time-- I hope it doesn't bother them that I'm posting it here now!
> 
> Can you imagine speaking to Supreme Leader Kylo Ren this way? All wet and begging for your attention and murder assistance on his knees? jfc. Leave a comment if you care to!


	2. Chapter 2

You sip at your emerald wine and hide your smile behind the crystal, watching that asshole accept praise from other well-dressed officers. You’ve been watching him all evening, ever beyond his eye, skewed by archways and curtains. The pin in your hair and the micro blaster on your thigh have never felt heavier.

“Have I ever told you that you’re ravishing in red?” he asks, snaking a hand around your waist, filling the space around you.

“You have,” you say, reaching up to brush hair out of his eyes. He closes them, tilting into your touch. “Seemed like a wise choice,” you remind him, opening the slash of your dress to reveal the blaster, which he largely ignores for what’s beneath it.

“Wouldn’t you rather use this?” He takes you by the wrist and cages your fingers around the hilt of his saber, stroking your arm.

“That would certainly please you, wouldn’t it? Me, striking down your competition with your own weapon.” You close your dress as he switches focus to your mouth as you take a drink.

“Yes.”

“You’re trembling,” you lower your voice as well as your hand, feeling him pulse from your pressure as you back him into a dim corner.

“Yes,” he says again, steadying against the wall with one hand and grasping a curtain with the other.

“Have you been thinking of me, Kylo?”

He buckles at the sound of his name in your voice, saying, “Yes, Ma'am, it’s been days and you keep denying me. It’s all I can think about.”

“What? Getting to come for me?” You give his cock a slap through the trousers.

“Yes,” he moans, drawing a couple of looks from guests who soon mind their own business.

“Greedy boy,” you tell him, stroking him lovingly where you had struck him.

He nods.

“That’s a shame, I was going to give you a long look at my pussy, but you certainly don’t deserve it,” you tease, taking your hand away from him and opening your dress once more, but not high enough.

“Oh please!” he begs as you watch him twitch beneath the fabric. “Please let me see you. I’ve done as you’ve asked…”

“I can tell you’ve abstained, my good boy,” you grant him, lifting the dress away to reveal yourself to him, getting closer. “So have I.” You slide a finger between your folds and watch him unravel.

“May I taste you this time? Please?” he whimpers.

You drain your wine and dip your fingers into his mouth, holding out the glass to be refilled by a passing servant as he sucks impatiently.

“Thank you,” he tells you, licking your remnants from his lips as you go back to stroking him, grinding into your hand.

“Sshh, save those words for later,” you instruct, pulling your gown closed and departing. He’s visibly tormented by the loss of your contact.

After doing some mingling of your own, even going so far as to wink at your target in passing, you park yourself near the stage and wait for your overeager boy to compose himself and get to business. His speech is short and concise, and you wonder if anyone else can see the rosiness of his cheeks as he churns out the necessary words to get through the evening. He doesn’t dare look at you until he has no choice, asking the two of you to join him. You’re smiling as Ren reveals to the crowd that evidence has been brought to his attention that implicates the attempted murder.

Of course, that asshole pleads instantly, swearing that he had never meant to harm you, only incapacitate your prototype and thus, remove you as a competitor. He’s on his knees, the only place he’s ever been much use to you. Although he does have the occasional good idea in his field of expertise, you suppose. He truly starts to panic when the word ‘treason’ is tossed around, an ugly word to hear as a ranking member of the First Order, rambling.

Ren strangles him silent with a thought, chiming in to praise your work and elevating you to the head of your wing of the Order. Down on one knee before you, he presents his very own saber to use on your betrayer.

You take it, testing its weight, seeing the other man crumple in fright. He’s mouthing that he’s sorry. You don’t care. It ignites at the press of a button and you revel in its chaotic energy, giving it a twirl and watching people flinch.

“You’re a sniveling bastard and I should take off your head,” you say, pointing the blade at his Adam’s apple, singing it as he mutely screams. “But that would be good for no one,” you go on, retracting the blade.

The hall is silent after its ragged humming. All eyes are on you as you consider the hilt, inspecting it. You draw it behind you before lodging one of the metal cross guards into the bend of his neck, blood gushing as he looks up at you, stunned. You rip it out and toss it in Kylo Ren’s direction.

“To a cell with this one,” you demand to the nearest, hovering guard, “if he survives the walk.”

You’ve descended the stairs before anyone moves a muscle, and nearly out of the hall before Ren stalks after you. “(Y/N),” he calls once it’s just the two of you, “why spare him?”

“He might be useful. Why toss him away? And besides, I didn’t care for the corner that you had backed me into, so I exited my way instead of yours.”

“That’s why you’ve been neglecting me,” he realizes aloud. “Forgive me, my Mistress. I thought you’d want this.”

You stop and turn to him. “It’s what you wanted, greedy boy.”

He’s pale, but he maintains his proud stance. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Get me out of here,” you demand, hiding tears behind anger. The adrenaline is wearing off.

“Of course,” he says, picking up his pace and giving you distance. “To my ship, then. Like you wanted.” He gets in touch with the officer in charge of his personal hangar.

The Silencer is prepared for flight as you kick off your heels and enter, tucking away all of your accessories in a side locker. Taking a seat, you familiarize yourself with the mechanisms and buckle in. Your passenger does the same, fastening himself to the side of your chair. You ease the ship out of the dock and accelerate the moment you’re clear, leaving your stress behind you.

“Kylo, play music for us,” you request, “your choice.”

He chooses to select one of your favorites, and the bass of each dropping beat rattles the interior. You go faster to match its energy, to outrun the anxiety. A warning message appears on your monitor: you’re nearing the end of your line. Kylo places a hand over your white knuckles, clenched to the controls. You ease up and let the Silencer drift. You let go.

“My Mistress,” he whispers into your ear over the music, twining his fingers in yours, hesitant, “what do you need of me?”

“Unbuckle me,” you instruct, pressure lessening around you as he obeys, doing the same for himself. “Get undressed.”

He takes his time, removing each article with purpose until he kneels in a black heap, undoing his boots and stealing glances at your legs. Light from the blue star shines purple through the red window panes, casting him in a silhouette as he waits for your next word, silent and still.

You ask him to come towards you with a gesture, spreading your legs and shifting to the edge of the seat. “Stroke yourself for me.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” he replies, casually doing so while staring at your sex.

“Did you wear it?”

He nods.

“Show me. Don’t stop.”

Turning away from you, he gets on hands and knees, bending down so that he can reach back and continue pumping away for you to enjoy from below. He strains to keep drinking you with his eyes, face smashed to the glass. A chrome plug catches the light, sparkling between his cheeks.

You remove your datapad from a hidden pocket, grinning as you sift through the buttons. He jolts and groans, thrusting into his hand as it buzzes to life at your command. The groan deepens when you brush his thigh with your foot, petting him and teasing him all the same.

Playing with the intensity, you giggle a bit as his body contorts. He’s moaning with each stroke at this point, legs quivering.

“Is this what you’ve been needing?” you ask, lowering the power to let him breathe.

“Mmm,” he answers, catching his breath, “not exactly.”

“Oh? What then?”

“Please let me give you what you want,” he whines, craning his neck to look at you.

“And what’s that?”

“You want me to pound your pussy until your mind is unburdened, and I will. Just one thing first,” he adds.

“Alright, go on, what is it?”

He flips around and crawls forward, begging to have a real taste of you. As he nears, you pull the pin from your hair to press just above his collar bone, at the crook of his neck, right where you had just nearly killed a lover. He shuts his eyes and stays still, twitching as you run it over his chest and graze the thin tissue of scars.

“Am I beautiful to you with someone unworthy bleeding at my feet?” you ask.

“Yes. Very much.” He’s silent a moment. “Am I worthy of you still?”

You toss the pin aside, fluffing your hair as you drag him towards you with his. He moans, spreading your labia apart by the sheer width of his tongue, alternating between teasing your holes with the tip and lapping underneath your clit. He has you sopping, saliva trickling over the edge of the seat as he devours you until you come, seeing stars with eyes opened or closed.

“Fuck,” you sigh, petting his hair and face.

He kisses your open palm, nipping at your fingers as you smear your fluids into his eager mouth. Before you even finish contracting, his own fingers are inside of you, massaging the roof of your walls. You collect yourself enough to turn up his vibrations with your pad. His brows furrow, but he keeps stimulating you with precision.

“May I?” he whispers the question, stroking himself in anticipation.

“Fuck me,” you order him.

He’s inside of you, hands around your ankles, bending you into the seat. His thrusts are quick and shallow before plunging in. You grip the armrests when he sinks all the way into you, throwing his head back. What a sight. You reach out, nails in his chest, raking them over his nipples, and he gasps, fucking you harder as you twist them.

You’re just getting started again, and he’s already ragged, having difficulties with control. He pulls out, but not in time, spurting strings of pearly white up the front of your dress.

“Not done,” he insists, grunting as more weeps from his bobbing cock.

He slides back into you, nearly weeping tears as well from overstimulation. Freeing a hand, he presses it to his stomach, trailing fingers down to his groin and repeating the process, engorging himself by sheer force of will.

Amazing as the feat is, your eyes roll back in your head from the pleasure of his return.

“I want to fuck you against the glass,” he insists.

“Then do it.”

He scoops you up and does just that, turning you to rut from behind. The glass is warm against your face as you peak out at the infinite backdrop of your scene. You reach behind, pulling his hair as he pounds you as he promised, hands gripping your hips and pulling you into his thrusts, lifting you from the floor. When he sinks in deep enough, you feel the vibrations from his plug seeping through his body and into yours. Pressing his weight onto you, he reaches around to rub your clit, whispering questions into your ear as he draws forth your next climax. He moans along with you as it hits both of you at once.

“Don’t stop yet,” you insist, clawing at his supporting arm and pushing back on his prick, cum spilling down your thighs.

“Yes, Ma'am,” he answers, whining as he coaxes more blood into his shaft before it softens. He pants, giving you little thrusts as he eases himself back into the groove.

The cockpit is humid as it fills with the sticky, wet noises of his body plunging into yours and the unflattering grunts of someone pushing their limits to please.

“You’re such a good boy,” you praise, reaching between the two of you to touch yourself and occasionally give him a squeeze as well.

“Thank you,” he pants, keeping his rhythm until he feels you start to clench. His thanks dissolve into babble, praying at your body like some sort of unholy altar.

Your nerves flare for a third time. His name rolls off of your tongue at the precipice, legs quivering, but he holds you together, using his last bit of strength to press you flat into the ship, hands on your back, slow and deep until your contractions grind to a halt. He collapses next to you, a puddle of sweat gasping for air. Your head is spinning, teeming with ecstatic chemistry.

There’s a smile on his face, despite the discomfort he had endured to give you that rush. His hand runs lazily along your arm, smudging the blood splatter there from earlier.

“Have I ever told you that you’re ravishing in red?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment if you're feeling it! <3


End file.
